


Of a Thousand Suns

by MissBlu



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Explicit Sexual Content, Genocide, Human Trafficking, Multi, NSFW, Nonbinary Character, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prostitution, Sexual Content, Smut, Swearing, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-04-26 17:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14407380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissBlu/pseuds/MissBlu
Summary: It probably didn’t appear so, but they had a goal in mind: find those so-called “parents” and seek some revenge. They would do so by any means necessary. And yet . . and yet that damn name keeps popping up again, and again, looking for them . . .





	1. Chapter 1

The town was bustling, despite the late hour. Normally, women of the city wouldn’t go out at this time, not without a purpose. But Suri was new here, they didn’t understand the culture just yet. Suri followed the man in front of her, dragged by an invisible force that connected her to him. Quite literally in fact, as the thread was not seen by the naked eye, but the spiked leather choker announced what they were, and what they were going to do. They followed in silence, until the man approached a woman. She was a lady of the evening, but she wore a sour face. She wore black - all black - one of her high heeled stilettos dug into the cement wall she was leaning against, and her royal purple matte lips wrapped around a cigarette. She eyed the gentleman before spitting out her cigarette prematurely, and grinded the tip of her heel against it to snub it out.

“Bambi baby, take care of the new girl will you? Show her the ropes,” the man had a cheshire grin plastered on his mouth. He looked like a bum, Suri thought. Just some nerd wearing a faded grey hoodie and blue jeans, but she knew better than that. Bambi peeked over at Suri, the girl wasn’t what she was expecting. Newbies didn’t normally look like her . . . but maybe that was why she was picked. Bambi nodded at the man, and he slithered off into the darkness. The two stood in the night, illuminated by bright city lights and the low street lamps. It was too warm to feel lonely. Suri thought how lonely they felt right now, so far away from home. Then they bit their lip as they felt the anger seethe in.

Suri’s anger didn’t last, a breath later their head was jerked up, their eyes raising to Bambi’s. Bambi studied Suri’s face closely. Suri’s face was slender, their lips big, their skin an even shade of ebony. Their hair was curly, short spirals that twisted down to their shoulders, but it was thick, and they had so much of it. Suri’s bangs were so long that they covered their eyes completely, and Bambi wandered how they could see at all. Bambi reached forward to push their bangs from their face, she had to study them well, to see if they would catch a lot of customers or not. Suri jerked their head away harshly, Bambi shocked at how strong they actually were.

 

Bambi shot her a confused look, and stared at them in silence. Suri said nothing. Bambi took a step back to study them closer. Their figure was feminine. Their hips were wide and their thighs were thick, pear body type did well in this industry, even if their boobs were small. Suri wore no makeup, unlike Bambi, who seemed really dressed up to Suri. Bambi wore a short, tight-fitting black dress, one that barely hit her mid-thigh. Her skin was pale, and her makeup was dark. She had small eyes, and lips that stayed in a tight line. She seemed to glare at everything as she pushed back her straight mousy brown hair. Bambi had a small figure, Suri took note of her petite size in comparison to their “plus size” one.

 

“Blowjobs are $60, hanjobs $35, and a fuck is anything you damn well want it to be if you know how to negotiate,” Bambi took out another cigarette and lit it between her fingers. “Otherwise, a beginner like you should just say $75, anything less tell them to fuck off.”

The older woman took a long drag of her cigarette, then paused. She wondered for a second how she ended up here, on this dirty street every other night, sleeping with old fucks who didn’t want to go home to their wives. Then she remembered her overdue bills laying on the countertop. The new girl was lucky, she was young, so she would just have to deal with ugly frat pricks and bachelors. She blew out smoke.

“Lucky for you, we’re a package deal since you're new. So everything is double . . .” Bambi eyed Suri.

 

“You a virgin?”

Suri shook her head, not bothering to turn and look at Bambi. She just stared off somewhere, and Bambi didn’t care enough to ask if she was ok. This wasn’t the place to not be ok, you just had to fake it till you made it. She was relieved they had their cherry popped already, she didn’t feel like dealing with that crying shit today. Bambi took another drag.

 

“We’re on the east side of town, this is where all the straight girls are. North is for the gays, and west for the transvestites.”

 

“My fake name is Bambi. Don’t bother asking others about their real names, they won’t tell you. Come up with your own fake name too, it keeps the pigs off ya.”

A white cadillac hover car pulls up to Bambi. She frowns and sighs, then takes another long drag before snubbing it in the ground and walking over. Suri listened to the click of her heels against the pavement and then wondered about hover cars. It was something everyone had, but they hadn’t bothered to get their license yet, so they hadn’t went to the dealership to get one either. They had heard rumors of cars that rolled on the ground on a different planet before, one that they had never heard of. Once they’d looked it up, it was written off as extinct.

 

“What you think you got a golden pussy or somethin’?!” Suri snapped back to reality,  a dude was yelling from the window of the hovercar.

 

“That’s the price for me and my friend here. You don’t like it you can go fuck your sister!”

“Bitch-”

Suri approached the car, glancing curiously at the boy in the hovercar. He had pale skin as well, but no horns, and no tail. No scales, no hooves, no claws, no feathers. Perhaps he was one of those last so-called humans.

“Fuck do you want?” The boy thought to call them ugly, but he couldn’t. He didn’t think they were ugly at all, they were actually his type.

Suri leaned in close to him, bending down to stare into the window. The boy opened his mouth to say something, but then immediately closed it again as Suri grabbed the collar of his shirt. His mouth closed again as they crashed their lips down onto his, yanking his collar. The boy was shocked for a few seconds, at a loss for words. He felt their tongue slowly slide into his mouth, and allowed his own to hesitantly mix with theirs. Suri took note of his skilled tongue, but his hesitance told them that he was still inexperienced. They reached over and gently took his wrist, taking note of the watch that said Rolex on it. Suri never heard of it before, but they were sure it was probably expensive. They guided his hand to their ass. The boy’s fingers twitched once, then dug gently into the supple skin.

Bambi gawked at Suri. She hadn’t expected this from the kid, maybe they had done this before. Maybe they was just really good, and that’s why they’re here? A moment passes, and Suri pulls away. The boy’s hand lingers on her ass.

 

“Fine, whatever you want,” he mumbles through breathless huffs. “Just get your asses in the car.”

Suri smirks in satisfaction.

The two climb into the backseat. The boy eyes Suri with hunger, licking his lips quickly. In the back of his mind, he savors the taste of their lips. The other man begins driving. Neither two had noticed him before, but Suri had a bad feeling in their gut about him as they caught his eye in the rearview mirror.


	2. Chapter 2

Suri stood by Bambi as she counted the cash. They were curious on how much it was, since the price was decided before Suri walked up to the car. The boy stood at Suri’s side, his arm wrapped around their waist. His fingers grazed up and down her side as he waited. When satisfied, Bambi put a few bills in her bra, then handed the rest over to Suri. 

“Well then, let’s go to our rooms,” the older man pulls out two hotel keys, he passes one of them to the young boy.

“Wait, that wasn’t the deal. We come as a package. Remember fuckface?” 

The older guy’s eye twitches a bit, and Suri frowns. 

“Triple it,” Suri commands. 

“What?” The older guy looks over at Suri, a scorn on his face. His eyebrows creased with anger and his eyes burned with annoyance. Suri stared straight into the soles of his eyes, their own pupils burning with as much defiance as their tiny body could muster. 

 

“I’ll pay for it,” the young boy finally says, snapping them both out of their trance. 

He digs into his jacket and fishes out some more bills, which Suri divides and splits between Bambi without bothering to count. Bambi pockets the money and eyes the older guy suspiciously. 

“You’ve got thirty minutes. Cum faster than that,” Her heels click off to the room across the hall. 

The younger boy unlocks the room next door. Suri shoots one last glance over at Bambi and the older guy disappearing into the room. A feeling of terror washed over them as Bambi entered into the room, not looking back. The older man catches their gaze, then sneers at them, his nose scrunches up and the top corner of his lip arched above his teeth. Suri turns away and enters their own room.

 

“What’s your name?” The younger guy faced Suri, eying them curiously. He held his white jacket loosely in his hand. 

Suri stared at them for a long time, wondering if they should give him a fake name like Bambi suggested. They give a toothy grin.

“Suri.”

“I’m Chris,” he gives a sweet smile. 

Suri nods and sits on the bed, staring up at him curiously. Chris turns his face to hide his slight blush, then sighs. They were kind of cute, he almost hated that they ended up here, like this.

“Come here,” Suri mumbled. 

Chris walks over to Suri, they immediately wrap their legs around his waist. Suri pulls him into a kiss again, this one sloppier than the first. Their fingers dive into the back of his hair. Chris entangles his tongue into Suri’s, then leans forward and places his hands on either side of her on the bed. Suri let Chris tower over them, and focused their hands on the hem of his jeans. They unbutton and unzip his pants. The two pull back from the kiss, breathing on each other’s mouths in deep huffs. Chris pulls Suri’s top off, they wore nothing else underneath. Suri’s feet pulled Chris’s pants down, and he yanked them off and used his feet to toss them away somewhere. 

 

Chris works Suri’s jeans off quickly, then pausing at the slight bulge in their boxer-panties. 

“You . . .?” He looks at Suri’s face. They say nothing in return. Just wait and watch. Maybe Chris would demand his money back, or grab all his clothes and leave. It wasn’t an unheard of reaction, but one they had yet to actually witness. Chris’s fingertips wrap around the hem of their panties, slowly peeling them down. He gawked at their phallis. 

 

It was . . . small. About the length of his hand, but still too small in comparison to the rest of their full figure. Chris was at a loss for what to do. The girl he thought existed was just so damn cute.

Suri sighs and lifts their legs back, holding them with their hands into a V shape. Chris blushed again. He leans forward, kissing their chest and slowly trailing kisses all the way down to their hipline. He wrapped his hand reluctantly around Suri’s member, still a bit unsure of what to make of all this. Without thinking too much, he moved his hand up and down. Suri stayed still the whole time, waiting for Chris to get comfortable. 

Chris squeezed a bit tighter, moving his hands faster. Suri moaned quietly and titled their head back. Even laying down like this, Chris still couldn’t even see their eyes at all. In the light, he caught the reddish of Suri’s hair. A color that possibly meant . . . 

Suri suddenly started bucking their hips. They were starting to feel the build up and was getting into it. They grabbed Chris’s free arm and held it. Their mouth was slightly open, they had meant to say something, but Suri had long forgotten what they’d meant to say in the first place. Now their lip only quivered in delight, breathing heavily to the rhythm of Chris’s strokes.

Chris stops, feeling Suri was erect enough. He felt around in his pants pocket, trying to find the condoms he had taken this morning. But which damn pocket did he put it in?! Suri lost patience, instead they wrapped their legs around his waist and used their weight to throw him to the side. They quickly squatted down in front of him, noticing his dick was already hard. Neither party had any lube on them, but Suri wasn’t worried much. Instead, they decided to use a bit of something else as lube . . . They wrap one hand around Chris and put him inside their mouth. They move their head forward and back, slowly working more and more into their mouth until their plump lips touched his base. Chris was in heaven, their lips were so soft, and their tongue worked wonders against his tip. Suri used their tongue to explore the top of him. Suri hated to make such a mess, it almost disgusted them, but thought little of it. The foreplay didn’t last too long. Suri rose shortly after starting, turning around and spreading their cheeks. 

Chris stared almost dumbfounded. From behind, Suri didn’t look male at all. Hell, they didn’t look male from the front either! He had no time to think on it, as Suri sat on his hips, pushing his erect cock into their ass. Suri moved easily, raising their hips slowly and plopping them down quickly again. Their moan was louder than Chris thought it would be, higher too. He bucked his hips gently at first, matching Suri’s slow rhythm. Eventually they grew tired of the slow pace and sped up, Chris bucked his hips wildly and sat up.  He kissed and nibbled at the nape of their neck, a hand holding their waist. The other moving back to their crotch and handing them off again. 

Suri’s voice got louder and louder. God damn, who thought they’d be a screamer? It took a while for Chris to realize Suri had came before he felt the hot, sticky liquid dripping down his hand. Then he felt them squeeze around him and twitch, and both stayed absolutely still until Suri moved again. This time around their slammed their hips against Chris’s. Chris breathed heavily as he couldn’t hold back anymore, he had no idea how Suri even finished first. He leaned back, spreading his legs wider as sweat formed on his forehead. They really showed no mercy. He scratches Suri’s hips without thinking as he climaxed into them. Suri shivered, shocked that Chris came inside their ass, but shrugged it off. 

Chris focused on evening his breath as his lower half stopped twitching, Suri pulling him out slowly. They disappear into the bathroom. 

 

By six a.m. Suri got dressed. They wringed their way free of Chris’s arms clinging around their waist again, then showered and counted the money they’d earned. Suri pocketed the money and glanced at Chris’s sleeping face. Normally, Bambi would’ve came after the thirty minutes were up, and collected Suri to find some more customers. Being new, Suri fell asleep after their fun with Chris. But a feeling of dread washed over Suri as they realized this, then rushed out of the hotel room. 

The door was slightly ajar, so Suri let themselves in. The room was messy, as they expected. The bedsheets were untidy, but the lampshades and alarm clock had fallen onto the floor. Suri took a few steps further into the room, the pillows were stained red. The smell of blood overwhelmed the room. There was blood on the floor, Suri’s eyes followed the pool of it up to Bambi’s limp body. She laid there, eyes lifeless yet widened from shock, her mouth slightly open. Suri approached the body slowly. Bambi’s neck was sliced, and multiple wounds splayed across her chest and stomach. Suri covered their nose, then turned their head away from the sight. The old guy was nowhere to be seen . . . figures. Suri turns back to Bambi, they stare at her one last time before closing her eyes. Suri turns, pauses, then looks back at Bambi’s body. They reach into her bra and pull out the small wad of bills.    
  


Suri makes their way to the door, but a knock stops them. 

“Police, open up!” A deep voice commands.

Suri could hear their heartbeat pound in their ears. There was no going for the window, they were on the eighth floor. Suri thought about trying to hide in the bathroom or closet, but realized how stupid that would be. Suri raised their hands above their head as the door was forced open. 


	3. Chapter 3

Suri sat at the flimsy wooden table. The room was completely empty. The investigator glared down at her, he wanted to believe the poor kid hadn’t done this. That they just got caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time. That they were just young and dumb. But he had seen too many cases with young and dumb kids doing things like this before. He gives a hefty sigh before resting his elbows on the table.

“Your name is Suri . . . no surname?” He eyed Suri. They said nothing in return, their mouth locked into a tight line.

“No parents? We can give you a free phone call . . .”

“ . . . ”

He leans back in the chair and sighs, strumming his fingers against the wood.

“Listen, I can tell ya what the big guys think. They think you and your prostitute friend went to work on some guy, and the payment went sour. You two fought over the money and you killed her.”

“ . . . ”

“Tell me somethin’ if I’m wrong, kid.”

Seconds ticked away, turned to minutes.

“I get your game. Won’t speak till you hear from your lawyer, right?”

Suri slowly shook their head no and bit their bottom lip. They had no money for a lawyer, not anymore. They wondered why they had taken the money from Bambi, or why they even followed her into that white cadillac. But they had no evidence of a weapon, not on Suri’s body or in the room. That much they knew. And yet she was here. Booked and processed like all the other criminals. The police had taken their prints and scanned their pupil, then made a public file for them.

Officer Jones was frustrated, to say the least. A strange kid that wasn’t in the government system. Suri’s hair color alone was . . . Either way, they had given a name, but no surname, and no address. No parents, no city. They couldn’t get a word out of them. Suri stayed in interrogation for six hours now, and he had gotten nowhere with them.

 

Suri tapped their foot against the linoleum floor. They had no idea what time it was, but it was time to get out. Their mind began to turn, searching for some way to blow this popsicle stand, and they didn’t plan on telling any of these fucks anything. Not when it would be used against them later. Suri was well aware of the security camera in the top right corner of the room. For a moment, they wondered if Chris was taken in as suspect as well. Was he in the next room, being questioned just a laxly as they were, right now?

No. In fact, Chris was back home, thinking about Suri. He was a bit infatuated with Suri, entranced by the night they shared. His mind kept wandering back to it, fantasizing on it, but he said nothing on it. He was woken up shortly after Suri was taken away by the police, the hotel manager apologizing furiously about the inconvenience.

“What happened?” He asked drowsily, the bedsheets just barely covering his lower half.

A part of him didn’t care what was going on, he had felt the cool of the sheets next to him. That part of him sank into a feeling he couldn’t quite place. But he knew that part of him yearned for Suri to have been there, even if it was just for that short morning.

 

“An emergency. We have to evacuate all the guests in this hall, please forgive the inconvenience.”

With that, Chris was ushered out the room. He was able to receive a partial refund for the night, although he didn’t really care. He returned home, still smelling of sex. He showered and headed out to work. Ben hadn’t came in that morning, the shop was still empty. Chris worked part-time at a mini-market. There were two other girls that worked there, both were prudes. He liked Ben, as they had similar interests. They were drinking buddies. The night he found Suri was a night they searched for booze. Ben was comfortable with prostitutes, he ordered them frequently. No one thought anything of it, what he did with his own money in his free time was none of Chris’s concern.

And he thought, why not? If he could get laid that easily, then who cares. His parents tried to tell him that prostitution was morally corrupt, but it was legal here.

 

The mini-market strummed it’s usual elevator-like music as his co-workers set up the register for the day. They said nothing to each other as Chris went back to restock the shelves, pushing Suri to the back of his mind. Ben hadn’t clocked in for the day. Just where the hell was he, anyway?

 

Suri sat in the back corner of the cell, legs crossed on the thin mattress. It was the kind of bed where if you laid on it long enough, you would feel the iron bars of it protruding into your back. They recalled the note they’d written earlier for the officer that got them out of that god-forsaken interrogation room. Suri wrote a simple description of the older guy they saw from that night:

 

_Tall. Male. Balding. Old, maybe mid-forties. Thin. He had the tail of an Ox and flattened horns._

 

From the corner of the cell bars the front doors to the police station were visible. It was still daylight at this hour, but the day was slow. Only a few officers lazily walked in and out, some filing paperwork at their desks. The only sounds Suri heard was the soft hum of a phone ringing in the distance, and idle chit-chat they couldn’t make out.

 

 _‘Tonight,’_ they thought. _‘Tonight they were going to blow this popsicle stand.’_

 

Suri waited until the dead of night, the full moon gleamed through the dark cell bars. They had hoped the stars would be visible from here, but the light pollution was something they still had to get used to. They wondered just how far from home they were, but then remembered their parents and grind their teeth. Suri was coming for them, they would return to them one day.

They turn from the high window, barred by metal bars they were too short to reach. Suri remained alone in the cell, and there weren’t many inmates in the cells they could see. Maybe crime here wasn’t that bad. The slow day made sense now. Suri starts stripping, removing her plain white top and white cotton pants. Cotton was the cheapest material Suri knew of. A whistle breaks them from their mind, an inmate across from Suri’s cell took notice of them. Suri piled their clothes onto the bed, then pushed themself onto the farthest wall from their cell bars.

 

“Hey sexy, turn around for me!” The persistent inmate yells.

 

Suri ignores him, instead they run towards the cell bars a thrust their body against the bars. The clang of metal echoed throughout the building, the pain came next. Suri didn’t spend any time wallowing in it though, they backed up to the far wall and threw themselves at the bars again. And again. And again.

“What the hell is going on back there?!”

 

Great, they had gotten someone’s attention. The inmate from before had lost interest, coming to the decision that Suri was just a crazy chick. Suri keeps at it, despite dark purple bruises forming on her skin. They were barely visible, but the pain was still apparent.

Officer Jones sighed, they don’t pay him enough for this shit. He hurled himself out of his seat, he had been expecting this night to go over easy. There were barely any inmates, and the mute girl seemed pretty docile. He grabbed his baton, then headed out of his office to follow that god forsaken clanging noise. It was coming from cell block A. He glanced at the clock, 1 am. He had taken the night shift to work overtime, because he needed the money. He knew this field was dying out, but he hadn’t come up with another plan just yet. He told his wife he had no money to go back to school for another degree, but any other job would’ve been fine . . . at least if it was just the two of them. His wife held her rounded stomach with a worried expression, he knew what her face meant.

‘ _But we have a child to feed soon . . . ’_ Everyone knew minimum wage wasn't enough for a family, just enough scraps for a couple to survive on. Damn this society . . . all that bark about not doing the same mistakes as those grimey humans, and yet poverty was still at the top of the city’s problems.

 

Officer Jones witnesses Suri throw themselves against the cell bars again, but this time, they simply slid to the floor and laid limp.

 

“H-hey, are you alright?!” He put his baton to his side, fishing into his pocket for a key. He fiddles with the keys, then shoves the key into the cell lock. He shoves the cell door open, moving quickly over to Suri and leaning down to inspect them.

 

“Miss, are you alright?” He glances around the cell, Suri was in here alone, so there was no fight. Maybe she was sick.

He shakes Suri’s arm, they lean over and look at the officer. Their eyes did not meet, as Suri’s hair still covered their eyes, but they could see the officer clearly.

 

“Miss? . . . Oh, right.” Jones picks up Suri, his face flushing as his fingers try to avoid the intimate parts of Suri. He heaves them up, Suri’s skin was soft and supple, he couldn’t deny it. Jones quickly sets Suri onto the bed, he needed to keep his hands to himself. He couldn’t make that mistake, not again. He examines Suri again, they had bruises on their left side. They lined their arm, leg, and thigh.

Jones thought to call the mental hospital. But they closed a long time ago, and it would take them a few hours to get here anyway. Damn . . . he would have to watch over them until morning.

 

“H-hey . . . could you put your clothes back on?”

 

Suri shook her head no.

Jones’s eye twitched. He couldn’t stay with them like this, it was too suspicious.

“How about I get you your old clothes back? Will you at least put those on?”

 

Suri nods, and Officer Jones takes Suri’s hand and walks back towards his office. He didn’t want to leave them alone even for a second, not if they were gonna hurt themselves. He opens a drawer behind his desk and pulls out Suri’s clothes. Suri was happy, they didn’t think he would be this gullible, but it worked to their advantage. By the time Officer Jones turns back towards Suri, his eyes widened by Suri’s closeness. Suri pressed against the officer, their flesh touching against his uniform. Jones dropped the clothes onto his desk. He sets his hands on their shoulders, ready to move them back, back to a safer distance. But he was hesitant, something kept him there for a moment, and he didn’t know why. Suri took advantage of this pause, gripping his upper thigh and rubbing it.

 

Officer Jones opened his mouth to say something, anything. His mouth formed words but nothing came out. Not when Suri unbuttoned his pants, not when they pulled his trousers to his ankles, and not when she gripped his member, and stroked him until he was hard.

 

“W-wait I, ugh-!” He had snapped himself into reality, finally thinking of something to say. Only to be cut off by Suri, wrapping their soft lips around his shaft. They start bobbing their head, slurping loudly. Suri was indulgent, grabbing his balls into their hands and playing with them. They moved slowly, mostly just to tease the poor officer. They considered stopping soon, they had no interest in continuing without consent.

Suri begins to pull him out of their mouth, hoping to ask him for permission. Jones beats them to the punch, grabbing their horns and pushing their head back down to the base of his crotch.

“Let’s make this quick,” he mumbles, moving Suri’s head to his liking.

He was rough, but Suri was not against it. They moved their tongue around his the best they could, trying to match some rhythm of his wild hips. Jones did his best to keep his voice low, but as he got sloppier his voice escaped him. He felt himself building up until he could no longer stand, collapsing his body into his office chair. Suri wasn’t going to let him off that easy, they crawled towards him, shoving his dick back into their mouth. They continued at an even pace, Suri moved their head rhythmically this time, but still fast. Jones gripped the leather ends of his chair, his nails digging into the foam underneath. Suri gently grabs Jones’s swaying tail, and holds it. Jones pays no mind to it, in fact he never even noticed as he climaxed. He was much too focused on finishing into Suri’s mouth.

As Jones indulged himself into his twitching and spasms, Suri feels the length of his tail. When they feel a slight bump, they apply pressure. Jones twitches from the sudden pain, but didn’t have enough time to respond as Suri takes both hands and bends his tail at the spot. Jones grunts and falls over limp, Suri moves away from Jones and spits out the cum.

Suri grabs their shoes from the pile of clothes, they fish out the money and puts it into their right shoe before putting them on. They decided to ditch the clothes, security cams had caught their appearance and Jones was sure to be livid when he wakes up. No, they would leave as is, and find clothes later. Suri finds the back exit, and pushes it open. Thankfully, the night was warm and there was no one around. They step outside, determined to head over the mountaintops to the next town over.


	4. Chapter 4

Suri’s feet ached. They continued to drag their feet along the soft orange sand. They had seen no one else for miles. Suri followed the stars, heading north. They had begun to wander if any towns had existed in the direction they were heading anyway.  Suri cursed themself for making this stupid decision, why did they think  **this** was the best option?

 

Damn it all. 

 

Perhaps it was the trick of their eye, the fatigue from countless nights walking and lack of sleep that tricked their mind into seeing city lights. A blurry glimmer of hope. The promise of rest, of ease and motionless movement. Suri convinced their body to run, lunged their feet forward until they accomplished their current mission: sleep. It happened in a blur of shadows: a door opened, the feeling of soft carpet, the collapse onto something hard, the groaning of wood adjusting under Suri’s weight, and then nothing. 

 

It was a surprise, to say the least, when the Father found the body of a naked person inside the church. He left it unlocked, because there was nothing to steal, and no one had the gall to do it. Taken aback was an understatement. The doors of the church were open to everyone, sure, but never did he imagine  **naked** people to show up. They had on only shoes, but why only have on shoes and no other clothing? The Father scrambled to a nun, any nun, to find suitable clothes. He had covered them with his cloak, then gawked at their . . . mysterious hair color. Red hair was certainly not unheard of around here, but it was a rarity. Red  **meant** something . . something that escapes him at the moment, something he so desperately struggled to remember under his furrowed brows. What in Creator’s name did red hair mean?!

It meant . . . it meant status, perhaps? The Father would assume it would be a warning, a flashing sign to everyone that was aware of the meaning, but yet it wasn’t that. Something about it was an invitation, like an offer to dance after a few too many glasses of wine. He felt as if he was remembering, a eureka just on the tip of his tongue, but abruptly killed as the person stirred.

 

They sit up and stretch, the cloak falling off their form. The Father blushed and turned away when Suri continued to flourish under his eye. Their body was nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide after all. 

 

“C-come, child,” the Father gestures to a grand door to the side. 

“We have much to discuss.”

Suri follows the man to the back room, the nun’s quarters. The Father would have them wash and change there in peace, then they would talk. Before leaving, Suri’s eyes caught a peculiar mural. The stained glass one high upon the wall, it was very elaborate compared to the simple plain-white walls of the church. Even the confessional pods were lacking in the years, just simple pedestals behind the glass tubes. But that was beside the point, the point was that Suri had liked the stained glass. It depicted a woman with bright pink hair, and another dark figure behind her. They had heard of these two gods before, but never paid it much mind. The sun casted rays onto Suri’s face. Left a strange feeling behind, even once they were shrouded in the shadows again. 

 

It almost made them think this religion was nice, whatever it was.

 

Almost.

  
  


“What brings you here, child? Does something ail you?”

 

Suri shook their head no. It was nice to get the grime off their body finally, and drink hot tea afterwards. They sat with the Father at a quaint table. After washing, Suri was given nun’s clothes to change into, a situation they found very humorous. Someone like them, dressed head to toe in religious robes. It was comical, almost. The Father had spared her the head piece, it was a similar copy to the one the woman wore in the stained glass. It represented something, but Suri had long forgotten what. 

 

The Father was perturbed, the strange person was content with the clothes he had provided, yet they weren’t much of a talker. It wasn’t something he was used to, his job was to listen to other’s problems after all. All day, people came in and out, confessing their sins. The Father turned no one away, unlike other churches, and was renowned for lending an open ear to anyone. It wasn’t unheard of that a promiscuous man or woman would wander in, with a heavy heart. The Father would scorn any nun that would dare scoff at such people. 

But nowadays wanderers were rare, so every fiber of his being was curious (maybe even a bit excited), to know that people could still use his help . . . Or maybe he was getting ahead of himself. 

 

The Father took another long sip from his teacup, finishing it off and pouring himself a second cup. He felt no strong attachment to things like tea or coffee, but seemed to always drink something of the like when his mind wandered like this. It wasn’t a habit he was proud of, so he resulted in trying to do most of the talking here. 

 

“My name is Father Blacksmith, I follow the light of our dear Creator, Celest . . . though something tells me you care not for religion.”

 

Suri nods their head furiously. Thankful he wasn’t the sort of man that raved about his beliefs. Or even worse, try to convert Suri. 

 

The Father nods, contemplating what to say to get Suri to say something, anything. 

“What exactly brought you here? Naked and alone?”

 

Suri frowns, setting their tea down onto the table. Something about their demeanor changed, it made Blacksmith regret asking if Suri would react like that. But upon hearing their voice, he thought better of it:

 

“I’m looking for someone,”

 

“I will do my best to direct you to them. Who is it that you seek?”

 

“A rich couple . . . by the name Zarian.”

 

Zarian . . . Zarian. Blacksmith  **had** heard of that name before. But then again, aristocratic surnames came through one ear and out the other for him. Blacksmith wondered why Suri would look for any aristocrat but thought better of it, the dark crevice of his mind whispering that they were only seeking riches. The wealthy here were not nice names to be uttered, as they were typically not nice people. They stowed themselves away in a private society on an island for a reason, after all. 

 

“There’s someone I can direct you to who will know where they are.” Though he was a person Blacksmith normally avoided, he would be a much better resource than himself when it came to knowing people. But he certainly was a troublesome man, he wouldn’t make the process easy. 

 

“I’ll make a few calls to him, the doors of the church are open to you until I find him,” Blacksmith muttered. 

 

Suri nods, then rises from the table. They would return much later, after they got their hands on some clothes. Suri didn’t bother to listening to whatever the Father called out after them as they walked away. 

  
  


Chris fiddled with the keys. Damn this dark. Normally Ben was the one who locked up the mini-mart, as he was the burliest of the bunch. But he’s been MIA lately. Chris wasn’t completely defenseless on his own, but he preferred the idea that no one would bother him. Finally, he fingered the right key and jammed it into the doors. His eyes darted over to the security system, the orange light was flashing, meaning he remembered to set it on before locking up. All lights were off, the cash registers powered down. He shuffled behind the store to the parking lot, his white hover car the only one parked back there. 

 

Chris got inside and locked his door. He thoughtlessly pulled out his phone and dialed Ben’s number again, but strapped his seat belt on as the busy dial switched to his voicemail. 

 

“Dammit Ben, where are you? Answer your phone!” He scowled into the receiver. Chris didn’t normally leave voicemails but he was frustrated and a little worried. He wasn’t best friends with Ben, but he was fond enough of him to be worried if he went AWOL. The other two cashier girls seemed almost happy that he was missing. They were a lot cherrier compared to their usual nasty behavior. Chris caught sights he never thought he would see: them singing and dancing to the background music of the store, and idle chit-chat with customers. What a view! But even he knew how ugly those two really were: ‘ _ good riddance’  _ was written all over their faces. 

 

Chris pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex. It was in a gated community, one that told you to get lost without an ID. He shuffled through the halls, nodded at the bell girl that greeted him every time he came home. Took the glass elevator up to his floor, and gave some sort of grunt response to Rochelle. Chris was well-off, he admits it. He had no reason to work, his family’s money was more than enough and his parent’s inheritance was something others envied for themselves. 

 

And yet . . . and yet there was something missing. Being a cold-hearted businessman didn’t appeal to him. All the money in the universe couldn’t make a top-floor corner office any more desirable. It was why he got a minimum-wage job and hid his status. It was why he hung out with Ben, going out all those nights to shitty bars and buying whores. It was better than the life his parents planned for him . . better than being protected from the world inside their “protected environment”. 

 

Safe and warm . . . it was something he didn’t want anymore. His therapist was right, maybe he did have a death wish. 

 

“Chris, your parents have left another message.”

 

Those damn holographic postcards his mother insists on sending. Chris sighs, “Play it, Rochelle.”

 

Chris stared at his mother’s face, he was the spitting image of her, her friends would tell them. She put on her best smile, that fake one that never reached her eyes. The one that was more of an apology than actual happiness.  _ Sorry we’re having fun living our lives the way we want to now that you’re gone. Won’t you come back to us soon? It’s so dangerous out there and I worry.  _ **_Let me lock you up in that bland room again._ **

 

His father stared at something behind her, out to the horizon. He never said anything in the background, just as stoic as always. The two faded away in bliss. 

 

“Delete the message, Rochelle.”

“Yes sir.”

 

“Rochelle?”

 

“Yes sir?”

 

“You ever think there was more than . . . than this?”

 

Rochelle blinked exactly two times in the span of a few milliseconds, “I don’t know sir . . I was not programmed to know.”

 

Rochelle turned her back and disappeared to begin cooking. Chris suddenly longed for Suri again. He thought about her- . . . them more often, as he had even less to distract himself with. Their scent was fading from his nose, but yet his mind told him she smelled like raspberries (at least at the time).

 

“Suri? You mean that girl you keep talking about?”

 

Chris’s face flushed, he hadn’t realized he said it out loud. But he did talk to Rochelle often enough when he craved someone, anyone to talk to. 

 

“Yes, Rochelle . . . I want to see them again.”

 

“I see . . . That reminds me, an intruder was looking for her earlier.”

 

“An intruder?! When?!”

 

“Earlier today. I disposed of them as per my programming though, so you need not to worry,” Rochelle said blandly. 

 

“What did they want with me?”

 

“I do not know. They asked about your whereabouts, and Suri’s as well.”

That was unsettling. Rochelle was programmed and trained in combat, so it’s no wonder she was able to fend them off. But who knows what this person was capable of? Especially with Suri, they weren’t the fighting sort!

 

“I . . I need to warn them!” Chris blurted out. He couldn’t protect them, but he could warn them and help them get somewhere safe. 

 

It was a bold-faced lie, he knew. He really just wanted a reason to see Suri again. And anything for a thrill, he loved them no matter how cheap after all. He thought Rochelle would say something, but she only stopped cooking as he rushed back out of the apartment again. It was very likely she would notify his parents, but he hasn’t answered their calls in years. It was also very likely that his father wouldn’t care at all, he stopped caring years ago for all Chris could tell. 

  
The only issue was, he had no idea where to start looking for them. But he could take a few wild guesses on where to start.


	5. Chapter 5

Perhaps it was much more serious than he thought. There were missing posters of Suri everywhere. He clenched the screen in his hands, Chris couldn’t make sense of the holographic smile that they pulled over and over in a loop. The child of the Zarians, a wealthy couple his parents weren’t fond of. Perhaps the only rich couple they weren’t friends with. No wonder he didn’t recognize them clearly at first, Suri all felt like a hazy memory. Something from his past, a face in the background of those adult dinner-parties he hated so much. 

 

Chris had to find Suri. 

 

“Seen her by any chance?”

 

Stupidly, Chris looked up. An older man glanced down at him, passive curiosity in his eyes. Officer Jones watched the kid stare intently at the picture, maybe he knew somethin’. The big guys already knew about his screw-up, but if he could find the girl and march her back down here, then he could redeem himself. Jones admitted to his sloppy mistake before security could find it, told his boss he fell asleep and she slipped out. It wasn’t a complete lie, but no one needed to know that she blew him. 

 

Chris’s mouth did nothing. He couldn’t figure wether to tell the truth or to lie.

“Who wants to know?” Chris finally sputtered, doing his best to sound as threatening as possible.

 

Jones flashed his badge, “Officer Jones, Senior Chief Officer at that.”

Chris gulped. What sort of trouble was Suri in?

 

“I was interrogating a girl for a murder case when she ran off . . . that and the fact that her parents are scavenging for her doesn’t make her case look good, now does it?” Jones shot a wide smirk at him, confidentiality be damned. 

 

Chris’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, until his mind flashbacked to the first night he met Suri. Him waking in an empty bed being rushed out no less, and the room across the hall taped off. And the number of officers just crawling that place, even in the parking lot. Of course he lied when he was questioned, just a getaway vacation with his friend. His friend? Left out for breakfast, probably won’t be coming back to the motel . . . Was Ben in custody?

 

Chris grits his teeth out of nervousness, this guy was not to be trusted. 

 

“No . . . never met her.” Another bold-faced lie. They were starting to taste familiar now. 

 

“She’s quite somethin’, ain’t she? Almost like a tornado.”

 

Chris had no idea what Jones was thinking, or even talking about. But Suri was a strange force of nature, in their own little world. He wondered what would happen if they deemed someone as standing in their way, but thought of more pressing matters.

 

Like getting away from this cop.

  
  


Blacksmith was not one for using strong language, but  **damn him** . Damn that wretched man for having them meet  **here** of all places. Of which he knew he only demanded because it would make Blacksmith furious. He prepared himself to sweet talk the bouncer after a gratuitous amount of standing in line. He seemed like a brute of a man that glared at them both as the two approached. 

 

Suri dismantled him with ease. They approached him colly, strutting right up and pulling the man into a . . . passionate kiss. The bouncer was shocked at first, hesitant even, at the way this small being yanked him down. Even still he towered over them. But his hands slid around their waist, and even dared to grab a handful of her. Suri pulls back just as quickly as they attacked, and the bouncer stepped aside. Delighted, Suri pulled Blacksmith inside by his shirt. Blacksmith could only stare dumbfoundedly back at the bouncer, who, returned the gesture with just as much surprise.

 

Inside was a nightmare. A flash of various neon lights shrouded in darkness, an unrelenting heat, the ever presence of bodies. Lots of them. Bunched together, sweaty and overcrowded. And the  **noise.** The blaring of some forsaken song with way too much bass to actually sound like anything. And yet Suri loved every bit of it. This, now  **this** was the sort of fun they could get behind. But Blacksmith had to stop them before they got ahead of themselves. His hands instinctively flew to Suri’s waist to keep them from disappearing into the crowd, and he blushed not a breath after when they shot him a curious glance. 

 

“Dog!” He nearly screamed into their poor ear. 

“We need to find him, he should be here somewhere!”

 

Right. Suri nodded. Right. Business first, play later. They were here for his friend, or something like that. Someone named Dog that would point them in the direction of their parents. They needed to find him first. They marched off to scout the area, nothing interesting on the first floor. People either morphed into the crowd or sulked in the sidelines by the bar. Dog could be anywhere by now, but Blacksmith knew he wouldn’t make himself visible, if only to just mess with him more. Blacksmith flicked open his holophone, fully prepared to give Dog a strongly worded message. To which he would normally give some sort of snarky response that would hint to his whereabouts.

 

Blacksmith didn’t send the message, though. Instead, Suri pulled him upstairs to where they found out was the VIP section. They wanted booze, but didn’t wanna pay for it. They would just charm some sucker into sharing. They wandered the second floor, hoping to find a room with only a few people inside as Blacksmith followed suit. It was a busy night, almost every room was overflowing with people filled to the brim. People laughing and yelling at each other, or fallen over asleep in their drunken stupor. Suri had thought to given up after peeking into a window and witnessing a girl blowing some guy while holding a bottle. Blacksmith coughed and snapped his head away at the sight, he covered his mouth with one hand and steadied himself. Naked bodies was not something his eyes were virgin to, but seeing someone in the act itself is . . . 

 

Blacksmith clears his throat and straightens his collar. He closes his eyes and sighs deeply. Keeping Suri at bay proved more difficult than he first thought. He had to think of something . . anything that would keep them at peace. When Blacksmith resolved to open his eyes again, his met a familiar pair. The two eyes disappeared just as quickly as they came, but it was much too late. Suri nearly had to run after Blacksmith’s quick stride into VIP room 215. Inside was a man slumped over, and two bottles across from him, only one of which was empty. He had bright blonde hair that looked hideous on him, matched with sickening grey eyes that made him look blind. But Blacksmith knew that scar anywhere, a long diagonal line across his right eye. An incident both Blacksmith and Dog recalled all to well, but neither would speak on. 

The man reeked of alcohol. 

 

Blacksmith planted himself next to that mess of a man, and Suri slowly sat across from the two, still taking his appearance in. Dog has scales along his arms and a scaly tail at that. Suri wondered if he could breath fire, or if he was just a useless lizard. A moment passes. Dog sits up and leans onto the table, resting his chin onto the back of his hands. He sent Suri a look, ravishing them with his eyes. 

 

“So this is the one you told me about. Suri, is it?”

 

Suri only nodded in response. 

 

“I’m Dog, it’s the only name I’ll give you love so don’t bother asking for a real one,” he watched Suri with some amusement dancing in his eyes, and smirk plastered on his mouth. Perhaps he expected a certain response from Suri. But when he didn’t receive the reaction he’d hoped for, he straightened back into a sitting position and crossed his legs. 

 

“You’re looking for your parents . . . the Zarians . . ”

Suri nods. 

 

“Strange . . . my memory fades from me, but it should be easy for someone like you, shouldn’t it?” The question was more of an accusation as he glared at Suri. Suri returns the look but Dog only chuckles. 

 

“You’re real cute when you’re mad, you know that?”

 

“Dog, now is not the time for games,” to say that Blacksmith is weary was an understatement. 

 

“I mean, I don’t know . . it just seems so ridiculous to come to me searching for one of the most richest aristocrats of this day and age . . . after all, we all know where all those rich dukes and ladies live.”

 

Suri gritted their teeth, if it were that simple they wouldn’t be here right now, would they?

 

“Don’t grind my gears Dog, just help the poor dear out,” Blacksmith spat. 

 

“ . . . Fine. If you must know they’re planning to hold a party . . . Not here but some other planet far away.” Dog reaches into his jacket and pulls out a hologram. He flicks it on and then hands it over to Suri:

 

“Here’s the invite, that should tell you where they are.”

 

Suri glances at the invite, the location was on a different planet completely. Strange, if one was not already aware of their sins. 

 

Dog clears his voice and Suri glances up at him, annoyed. 

 

“My services aren’t free of course,” he slides closer to Suri in the oval shaped booth.

 

“Everything comes with a price . . . you of all people should know that better than anyone, right?”

 

Suri offered no response, just waited for whatever he was about to demand. 

 

“But for you, beautiful, a kiss is all I’ll need.”

 

Blacksmith felt as if he wanted to vomit. This was not unusual behavior for Dog, sober or not. He stood to leave. Suri quickly kissed Dog on the cheek before standing after Blacksmith as well, and vanishing into the hallway. Blacksmith couldn't help but shoot him a smug smile and leave as Dog’s expression contorted to slight irritation. 


End file.
